


Hollis & Karnstein

by Pophiebear



Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - J. Sheridan Le Fanu
Genre: Carm is an ass, Carmilla is a cop, Did someone say Papa Hollis as the leader of the Irish Mob?, F/F, F/M, Hollstein - Freeform, HomocideDetective!Carmilla, Humor, Kirsch is a sweetie, MedicalExaminer!Laura, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Will is a bit less of a dick, Work In Progress, dead bodies, probably smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 05:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7923130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pophiebear/pseuds/Pophiebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Rizzoli & Isles except gayer.. And they get together)</p><p>Carmilla Karnstein is a Homocide Detective and also a hot mess, literally everybody knows this. No, seriously. Everybody knows. Wilson Kirsch is her partner in crime -or not so crime- and a full time sweetheart. What happens when Laura Hollis, an optimistic, socially awkward ray of sunshine becomes the new Chief Medical Examiner in Styria and is made to work with the grumpy, sassy womanizer in numerous grizzly murder cases?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hollis & Karnstein

It's cold out, really fucking cold, and my breath clouds like smoke in front of my face, wrapping around with chilling teeth. I had only woke up two hours ago, body tangled within cotton sheets and with another body. Ella? Elise? I couldn't remember. Not that it mattered, she left with her clothes and dignity clutched tight to her chest. Had it been a few years ago I might've felt some sort of remorse, might've told her some unconvincing white lie, told her I would call her. Now I don't bother, now I just make my way to the shower kicking away discarded objects and clothing, clean any traces of another person on my skin and brush the taste of vagina from my mouth with a toothbrush I've had for a year and a half.

I find it hard to shake the sleep from my head these days. It clings to my consciousness and makes me slow and groggy. Not even the black coffee in my grasp helps me anymore. I would blame the nightly consumption of alcohol, but then that would mean acknowledging I have a problem. On top of a shit load more.

I drag open the door to the Police station, chucking away my polystyrene cup in a nearby bin. Heat warms my body instantly and I find myself wanting to go back outside. I pass the elderly secretary Ms. Buckleberry sitting at her equally ancient desk with also equally ancient technology. She has wispy white hair that reminds me of extremely thin paper. Glassy, pinkish eyes trail up from her crossword that I’m sure she’s had since 1967 and the fossil gives me her 'I pity you on a daily basis' smile':frail lips pursed and only just raised at the edges. I don't smile back. Everyone at my work knows I’m a mess, the epitome of a fuck up. But they keep their judgments to themselves since I put my fucked up life at risk everyday.

“Yo, Detective Scary’O hottie!” I huff out a reluctant laugh, spinning around on my scuffed heel  
and panning my face into a mask of stoicism.

Detective Wilson Kirsch; A muscular, broadshouldered guy with a charming, childlike smile that showed all of his glistening, white teeth and surferboy brown hair that flops to his forehead. All this topped with sparkling green eyes made him a natural lady charmer. If I was straight… Well, I still wouldn’t give him a chance.

“Did you just talk to me, beef cake?” I snark, waiting for him to catch up so I can punch him in his beefy bicep. I pretend not to notice him try to discreetly rub the sore spot. Such a baby.

“Beef cake again? You called me that yesterday,.” He grins down at me, “you’re losing your touch, bro.” It’s not even 8AM and I already want to smash his face into something.

“I’m not your bro, beef pot.” Not my best, I’ll admit. This I’ll blame on the alcohol. We stop at our desks and I try to ignore the bouquet of flowers that glare at me next to my keyboard.

“Bro,” Kirsch chuckles, slumping down in his own squeaky desk chair, “tech Theo has it hard for you.” I ignore him too.

With a harsh sweep of my arm the monstrosity flies over the edge in a haze of pinks, purples, reds and whites and lands nongracefully in the metal bin next to my desk which also hold the following: three lovey dovey cards, a white rose -I prefer lilacs- and a heart shaped box of chocolates. Which obviously I ate.

Theo belongs in the Tech department, security cameras, computer malfunctions and all that shit. He’s attractive enough, has these soft, soul searching brown eyes that can make a girls panties drop instantly and an intriguing accent that I still can’t pin point. His eyes and accent don’t deter the fact that I don’t like men, unfortunately.

“He’s stubborn, I’ll give him that.”

“I bet he wants you to give him a lot more.” He wiggles his eyebrows and I clench my fist to stop it from flying towards his infuriating face.

Kirsch settles and switches his dusty computer on. Whilst my desk is filled with sheets of paper that I can’t be assed to organize, Kirchs’ is filled with chocolate wrappers and crisp packets. The police badge clipped to my jeans digs into my side and I wiggle to ease its jabbing. It doesn't work so instead I slam it on my desk and glare at it as though it murdered my children.

“You should get one that goes around your neck, like mine.” Kirsch slips his from under his tight tee and waves it in the air between us.

I grunt and shake my head. “It looks dumb. Everyone can see its shape through your shirt.” I bask in his hurt expression for a moment until it shifts into his signature shit eating grin. “Have you heard?” Subject change, alright.

“Heard what?”  
“So you haven't heard?”

Fingers curl, “I swear to fucking god, beef bod.”

Kirch snorts. “Chill out, Dr. Seuss.”

I spin to look at him, an eyebrow raised. “I’m shocked nobrains, did you actually have an education?”

He ignores that. “There’s a new chief ME down at the pit.” That catches my attention.

“Seriously? What happened to Dr Pike?” Honestly, I don't really care. Dr Pike was a dull, bitter old man that was as cooperative as a brick wall. A very, very old brick wall.

“Dude, you actually care?” He knows me so well.  
“Nope.”

Kirch nods like he didn't expect anything more. He’s right not to. His face swiftly brightens though and he expertly slides his chair towards me.

“I heard that the newbie is of our favorite variety, though.”  
“Variety? Big word for a small brain.”  
“Fuck off, dude.”

I kick his chair back towards his desk and I squint at him as he gradually departs, seat spinning and squeaking like a mouse attached to a propeller. “So you’re saying it’s a she?”

“Yup, a chick with wicked looks.”  
“She’s not a chicken, Brody.” I detest the label ‘chick’. He knows this.

His face hardens and I take a sick pleasure in the way his eyes darken. I know he hates being called by this name. We’ve been partners for a year now and although the way he talks about women is gross, he still has a big heart and he’s always looking out for me. It’s as close to attachment as I’ll ever get. This is the only reason why I lift my hands in apology, taking a breath when his face softens again. The awkwardness starts to make me squirm so I turn back to my computer, pretending to do work. 

“So, what's her name then?” I murmur, eyes not straying from the screen.

He’s not fooled and I can feel him eyeing the side of my head. “Dr. Hollis.”

I hum in acknowledgment, the name barely registering in my hazy mind. We work in comfortable  
silence for a while. I say work but really he’s “discreetly” watching highlights from a football  
game and I have my legs perched on the edge of my desk, eyes lazily scanning across words  
that don’t register in my head. That’s how most of the day goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently working on chapter 2! Although I'm back to school this week so it may be a *bit* delayed. Thanks for reading! <3


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